Young stallion would have been a fool to deny her. She stands before him with unmatched beauty and a wicked grace that only the shadows themselves can understand. She stands before him the most wonderful thing he has ever seen. His knees hit the earth shatteringly quickly, lending him a slight shudder of pain as he willfully falls, but a warming sensation of being where he belongs. In his troubled times he looks towards the moon, the same moon that blinds him and lets him see as he needs- what he needs. Her gifts are grand and innumerable, ones to treasure and keep safe.

Manhattan is concerned- her young brow furrows, her tail curls slightly between her legs. Her master's devotion seems ill-acquired. Her master's love, sent so far from she... it is only the breaking of the bond, she comforts herself with. She has not yet lost him. Not yet. But the feeling grows as his eyes glaze to silver and he bows his head. He thinks he is unworthy of the Goddess' grace; Manhattan thinks him worthy of the world.

But Knox knows nothing of Manhattan's dreams for him. Her hopes that someday he will rise above what circumstance has forced him to become- heartless, cold. He seeks a warmth, but only to let him sleep at night. Something to even out the kills of the day and the love that's been lost. He seeks it now, kneeling before the Goddess of the night. The very same Goddess that speaks to him now, and asks of him a simple question.

There is no hesitation in the reply, only consideration. He would be a fool to interrupt her, but one all the same to leave her query unanswered. And so he waits, waits until the task is given with care that he does not yet comprehend. And then, he speaks into the silence.

"I have heard tales of my forefathers- great ones," he begins, lifting his head to look on with sightless eyes. "Tales of valiance and love; of crusaders and revolutionaries. To be them... I hope to be them will someday be to know them, and to know their passion." He lets his gaze turn down and away, towards Manhattan's place beside him, steadfast. She is a love, but a love lost. He does not feel her now in the cold of a birdsong night. His fathers were great, regardless of their shape. Johnny just as brave as the Sentinel, the phooka just as fearsome as the lion. "The night is cold, great Goddess of the Moon. I only hope their bodies might warm me in the darkest hours."

He rises then, slowly and with hesitation, wondering if he should have waited for her command. Then again, her command to return seems dismissive enough. "Thank you, I will do as you require," Knox answers faithfully. The draft dips his head, but does not return his sight. He has fallen from here once and won't do it again. He knows his way now in the darkest of nights- has Manhattan to guide him and the wind to pull him home. Whatever home is anymore.

[[Technical questions due to Alex choosing a complex magic like a problem maker- will he retain his blinding magic while in other forms or lose it, with the explanation of he can't use them both at once? Is this upgradeable at all to include the very weakest forms of their magics as a part of their forms, or no? As for for form details (number, names, appearance, etc.), if I work out those and then send 'em to you for review is that okay?]]